Within Reason
by Cave Canis
Summary: Spock is faced with a terrible decision about his life. Does he fulfill his duty to the Vulcan people or to Nyota and the Enterprise? Where is his heart? Author notes: Many thanks to Miranda River for her excellent beta service on this story.


**Within Reason**

by Cave Canis

Part 1

"My son," said Sarek, "I would speak with you." Spock nodded and indicated they could move aside away from the crush of passengers disembarking from the shuttle craft in _Enterprise's_ immense cargo bay.

"I would be happy to talk with you my father. May I inquire if this conversation urgent or merely important?" asked Spock mildly surprised to see his father in the flesh aboard _Enterprise_.

"Important surely. Urgent? I hope that it is not," the elder Vulcan replied. "Perhaps you would call me when it is convenient for us to talk."

"I will my father," said Spock, "However, I must return to my duties for the present." Then turning to the young lieutenant beside them he said, "Lt. Brigham, escort Ambassador Sarek to his quarters on deck 8, please." The young man nodded and ushered Sarek out of the bay and out of sight. Spock made a notation on his PADD and continued with the work of clearing several "precious cargo" containers that had been special ordered by various personnel for a variety of reasons.

He continued to be amazed how humans spent their credits. The _Enterprise_, basically a galaxy class small city constantly received shipments from the nether regions of the Sol system depending on what was needed and where they were located. Though crew members purchased from a standing list of personal items available on board, they were entitled to order things from their home planets or the far reaches of the Federation.

These usually consisted of foodstuffs or recreational articles. And occasionally a contraband item which was usually discovered, (or so he and Captain Kirk hoped) and subsequently disposed of properly or _stored_ for _safe-keeping_ in the Captain's private storage locker.

One line item in particular caught his eye as he scanned down the manifest at a list of parcels on which he needed to confirm delivery. The entry read:

_Planet of origin: Terra, Country of origin: United States of Africa, Contents: Jasmine and sandalwood soap, Crew member: Cmdr. Spock._

He was indeed pleased to see that this small gift from home had arrived as he wished to give it to Nyota Uhura.

It was still queer sounding to say her named in his mind. She had no title such as _lover_ or _mate_ or _wife_ conferred on her. Their relationship was complicated at best, no words in his human or Vulcan vocabulary sufficed. They were close friends of opposite gender. No, that was inaccurate. They were much more than close friends. He considered the word _lovers_, but the emotion and actions brought to mind by the word were inaccurate in human terms and in Vulcan there was no such word.

He patiently scanned the cargo containers until he came to the one in which _his_ "precious cargo" had arrived. He commandeered one of the crewmen assigned to cargo shipment and asked him to find the package. In a few minutes Spock saw the crewman weaving his way through the myriad of containers waving a small white padded envelope.

"Sir, here's the package you were looking for," said the crewman as he handed the package to Spock.

"Thank you Collins," he said reaching for it. Spock looked around as if to make sure no one else had seen the crewman's enthusiastic flag waving of the package.

Collins nodded and sprinted off back to his duties. Spock knelt quickly and pulling up the leg of his uniform pants, he stuffed the small package into the top of his boot, tucking the pants in on top of it, then returned to his work.

Spock cleared his PADD of tasks one by one until he had completed everything required of him for his duty shift. He looked at the chronos on the display panel and pressed a communicator button.

"Spock to Ambassador Sarek's quarters."

His father's voice answered the hail and Spock was momentarily aware of a tension he hadn't noticed before.

"Spock, thank you for calling me. Are you now free to come to my quarters?"

"I am available in the morning before my shift begins if that will accommodate you," Spock replied evenly. His father hesitated for a second.

"That will be convenient. I will see you then." The communicator screen went blank. Spock furrowed his brow and walked toward the doorway that led to a bank of turbo lifts. On board the lift he issued the command to be taken to the deck where the crew quarters were located and the turbo took off.

Uhura frowned at the screen in front of her. The group of younger, less experienced officers aboard the _Enterprise_ had to call upon the older more seasoned officers from time to time but as she _was_ the most experienced officer in subspace sound anomalies of this nature, she knew she was the only one who _might_ be able to decipher the sounds. "Figure it out Nyota or it doesn't happen," she said under her breath.

She listened again, this time closing her eyes and visualizing the sound in her mind. Two _clicks_, a _shhsshh_ sound and another _click_. "Got it!" she thought. She typed to the com screen and then signaled Captain Kirk who was talking to Sulu at the helm station. He saw her and walked over to the communications array.

"Lt. what did you get?" he asked calmly.

"I believe what I'm hearing are the waves emitting from a gas cloud." A grin slowly spread across Kirk's face. Uhura tried her best to prevent the giggle that threatened to bubble up in her.

"Lt. Uhura," his voice loud enough to the whole bridge crew to hear, "are you saying what you hear is the cloud 'passing gas'?"

"Well sir," she couldn't control it, the laughter rose in her throat and erupted, the Captain joining her. "Yes sir. A space fart." The rest of the bridge broke out into genuine laughter for a light moment.

They needed levity on the bridge from time to time and today space had been wonderfully accommodating thought Kirk.

The light moment passed and everyone returned to their displays and read outs including Kirk and Uhura. He stood behind her and watched the waves of erratic lines move across the screen.

"Spock's father arrived on board today," he said in a low voice. "But I guess you know that."

"Yes, I know." She turned her face and looked up at him, concern on her face, as if she expected him to tell her something.

"Well, are you two going to make some announcement or something?" She felt the flush of color come up on her face.

"Or course not," she said emphatically. Kirk grinned at her.

"Or course not…" he paused inflicting his favorite tease on Uhura.

"Captain." She replied.

"Yes, well, too bad. Carry on Lieutenant." He walked away smiling in the knowledge he had taken Nyota Uhura down a peg, which he tried to do at least once daily. They both knew it was all in play, but it was such good play.

Uhura sat at her station and sighed under her breath. She knew that her relationship with Spock was the talk of bridge even though they were extremely discreet and behaved as professionally as two officers could in public. In the months since they'd been deployed after fighting back the renegade Romulan, Nero; since the destruction of Vulcan, she and Spock had _expanded_ their involvement.

His natural reserve and his Vulcan heritage, had limited their physical involvement. Uhura had willingly agreed to the defined parameters, neither of them ready for more serious sexual activity, though she often had to fight off the desire for just that. At present it was enough to spend time together and to explore each other, even if being patient was sometimes difficult.

Spock was no modern, cosmic playboy. His own virtue was something he protected as was customary in Vulcan society. He too was well aware that there was no shortage of desire on either part; his nor Nyota's. But the restraint he maintained in private made it possible for him to continue to work closely with her without too much difficulty.

The previous day he had accidentally grazed her hand as he reached forward to touch the display panel in front of her. Immediately a sensation similar to mild electric current went through him. But it was not beyond his control to behave properly in public any more than anyone else on the _Enterprise_. He didn't know what reaction he might have had if they had already been sexually intimate. For the time being he was somewhat grateful for the self imposed chastity.

His father's presence on the _Enterprise_ clung to his consciousness as Spock completed the work assignments and came to the end of his shift.

The formation of the new Vulcan community was a full time job for everyone connected with it and he supposed his father wished to share its progress with him but it was unusual for him to request a visitation with Spock in this manner. Though he refused to feel like a schoolchild called to the head masters office, his father's tone had not been particularly filial or diplomatic.

Spock and his father were as close as they were likely to be and that was not close by human standards. His father's disappointment perhaps embarrassment at Spock's decision to refuse appointment to the Vulcan Science Academy in favor of a Starfleet career had separated them significantly. His mother had kept them communicating on a limited scale after he, as Sarek had put it, "abandoned his birthright" to attend Starfleet.

Had he completed the bonding with T'Pring his father would have perhaps been more satisfied. But this, like so many other plans had changed when T'Pring and so many others had perished on Vulcan.

As he finished his shift he was glad he had postponed the conversation with his father, however important, until the next day. He had invited Nyota to dine with him in his quarters and wasn't inclined to change the plan.

He entered his quarters and removed his boots by the door. He retrieved the small scented package and placed it on the table in the living area. Though he was certain she would be pleased with the gift, he admitted to a slight anxiety over presenting it to her.

In the sonic shower he wondered casually if human males suffered through pangs of guilt and responsibility over human women. From what he knew of human males he suspected many did not. He was continually brought back to his _older_ _self's _departing words of wisdom. _"Do what feels right."_

With regard to Nyota he often found himself unsure of exactly what that was. His inexperience in human relationships was never more evident than in his encounters with her. That he wanted her in every way was clear to him. She seemed receptive to his ardor but also comfortable with the restrained amount of contact they shared.

He tried analyzing his own intentions. Did he just want her physically or was there more? He understood their hormonal driven needs academically, but having never experienced them before himself he wasn't certain what they meant.

He groaned aloud at this and turned off the shower, exiting to the refresher. In front of the mirror he examined his facial hair which was beginning to cast a dark shadow across the lower half of his face. It was part of the human genetic legacy he had inherited from his mother he supposed, as most Vulcan men were not hirsute.

Regardless, the stubble was in need of removing before he saw Nyota later in the evening. He opened a drawer beside the mirror and from it took an instrument which, when he switched it on, whirred very quietly. The miniscule horizontal lasers that shot back and forth across the gridded instrument head, incinerated the protruding hair at skin level without damaging the skin in any way when run across the surface. In as many seconds as it took to touch his face with it, his skin was smooth and would remain so for a day or so.

He dressed in loose-fitting drawstring pants and a light weight knit shirt of plain design and was padding barefooted to the galley when he heard the door chime.

"Come," he responded. The door opened and Spock was pleased to see Nyota enter carrying a container of some sort. She was smiling and after removing her boots and placing them beside his at the door, she took a seat across from him on a high stool at the work bar.

"Hi, what are we having?" she asked, placing the container of liquid down on the countertop. Spock looked up from his preparations.

"We are having a salad and some fresh mangos from Kalifornyah," he announced holding up a yellow and red fruit; then noticing the plain brown jug, "And your contribution appears to be a beverage."

"Yes, it arrived today. My father sent me some of the wine he makes at home. I know it isn't fancy or anything, but it is from home." She looked a bit wistful for a moment. Then she bit her lip realizing her own lack of sensitivity. How could she say something like that to Spock who had no home but space? He kept a secure lid on whatever part of the grieving process he endured, but no one needed to remind him of home. He didn't seem to notice the reference.

"I too received something _from home_ myself today," he said, putting two glasses on the countertop. Nyota offered a puzzled look in response. "Sarek has arrived on board the _Enterprise_ for a brief visit on his way back to Vulcan Minor." Spock opened the bottle and poured out two glasses of wine. He smelled his and then took a small sip. It was pleasing to the taste though his experience with alcohol was that it had little effect on him.

"I know," she said accepting a glass of the deep amber red liquid. "I saw his name on the guest roster. Spock, if you want to go have dinner with…." He stopped her with a nod.

"No, I am just where I wish to be." He said allowing the corners of his mouth to curve upward in a small smile. "Sarek and I will talk tomorrow."

When Spock had completed the food preparation they carried their plates and the glasses of her father's wine to the small eating table by the lounging couch in the living area.

Mealtimes were quiet with Spock as it was not customary to speak at table on Vulcan. She didn't mind their not talking. In fact, she was bombarded by sounds all day and found the quiet of their meal comforting to her and a rest for her brain.

She understood that most Vulcans were touch telepaths but Spock had never asked her to share in this with him though he knew she was curious about it. He had said that it was the most intimate of personal interactions and she was content to wait till they were closer before asking more about it.

They sat quietly after eating and without warning he touched the top of her hand with his index and middle fingers together. It was so light she almost didn't feel it on her hand but an instant later her stomach tingled as it often did when they were _making out_ to use an ancient term for doing nearly everything _but_ having outright sex.

She felt a blush come up in her cheeks as she remembered a particularly intense session of what she would call _heavy petting_ they had enjoyed a few nights ago. She raised her eyes to meet his, then offered him a disdainful look.

"That's cheating," she said. He coughed under his breath and shook his head as he removed his hand from hers.

"If using all of one's resources in a losing battle could be considered cheating," he replied, "then you are correct."

"Losing battle?" she asked.

"When I am matched against your formidable charm, I am afraid the battle is lost."

"Spock, that's so sweet." She leaned across the table and kissed him lightly on the mouth feeling the current quickly pass from her lips to his. He gathered their wine glasses and refilled them.

"Come with me." He stood up, and taking her hand deliberately, walked them to the small sofa where Nyota curled up, legs under her. He sat down next to her and held out the small package on his open palm.

"Is this for me?" she asked, her eyes betraying the pleasure she felt.

"Indeed it is. I am certain you will like it," his eyes were bright as if with some imagined mischief. He obviously liked providing an element of surprise. "It, like the wine, comes from your home."

She tore open the outer brown wrapping paper but before she saw the decorative paper underneath it she smelled the aroma of her favorite soap.

The scents of jasmine and sandalwood mingled with the lingering taste of her father's wine. For a moment she was consumed with a longing for home and family and she found it very endearing that Spock had thought to give her something he knew she would truly appreciate.

"Oh Spock. Thank you so much," she said softly. She rose to her knees to kiss him, this time putting her hands on his shoulders. She put her lips on his forehead, and very slowly let the kisses drift down over his eyelids, then his cheeks till she found his mouth.

His mind flooded wildly with the scent and feel of her. He tried to keep his composure but her breathing on his skin, combined with his own desire, was too much to ignore. He opened his lips and returned the kiss as passionately.

They quickly fell into the familiar pattern they had recently been enjoying, of caressing and kissing, then stopping from time to time to allow the sexual tension recede to a manageable level.

Nyota had explained that this was a customary strategy among humans for receiving pleasure with a partner without sharing sexual intercourse. Spock had found that she was right on both counts and had learned to think of other more mundane things when the touching became too close to crossing the line of real intimacy.

It was very pleasurable, if not always satisfying.

But something about the way she looked at him or the way she smelled tonight was undoing him. He feared their "rules of engagement" were no more than a fragile truce between propriety and his passion for her.

He put both hands around her waist and brought her, facing him, to straddle his lap. He brought both arms up her back and found her shoulders pulling her down into him as they continued kissing.

What had started with the chaste kiss at the table now progressed to full open mouthed kissing, exploring each other with their tongues darting back and forth. Their breathing too had deepened and Spock responded very humanly by becoming erect and tortuously hard.

He had been here before with Nyota and though pleasurable beyond anything he had ever experienced, tonight he was finding it more difficult to slow things down as they both became more aroused.

It was logically only a matter of time before they would cross beyond a point of stopping and then either all would be gained or all would be lost. At that moment he didn't care.

He stifled a sound in his throat and pulled Nyota closer to him, his hands on her hips. He raised his hips to meet hers and felt her press against him as she leaned over him. She put her hands on his chest, her lips moving from his mouth to his neck. He touched the fabric of her light dress and slid his hand under it upward along her bare thigh. She moaned softly at his touch.

"Nyota," he breathed in her ear. "I cannot…" he paused. "We must stop." His voice seemed far away. She continued to kiss his neck following the line of his pulse to his ear.

"No. No stopping tonight," she whispered into his ear, her tongue slipping in it and then gently circling his ear lobe.

His ragged breathing told her he would not stop tonight as he had before; that his desire for her had triumphed over reason.

She breathed softly into his ear and then traced the graceful outline of the pinnae with her tongue. He groaned out loud then and rose from the sofa hitching her body against his as he put his hand beneath her buttocks and supported her weight. With her legs entwined around his waist and her lips still touching his ear he carried her three steps to the sleeping platform where he put her down gently on her back. In a movement so smooth as to appear seamless he lowered himself on top of her as she spread her legs to receive him.

They continued their mutual caressing and for the first time they shed their clothing, removing whatever piece happened to be covering that part of their bodies they wished to kiss or stroke.

She helped him take off his shirt and it wasn't long before most of their clothing lay in a pile on the floor and their bodies were flushed with arousal. She couldn't resist moving under him, pressing her breasts into his chest where she felt the black downy hair on his chest against her. She kissed his shoulder and then allowed her lips to move again up his neck. He groaned with pleasure and sought her mouth with his.

She pulled away from him slightly and slid her hand slowly down across his nipple and then the front of his body along the line of hair to his navel.

His kisses were more insistent now and she knew she would be more than ready to receive him when he was ready to enter her.

He slipped out of his pants and she continued to slide her hand downward finally touching erect penis. He quickly repositioned himself and entered her smoothly.

She was swollen and wet with anticipation as they began the rhythmic movements that would culminate in pleasure and mystery.

With this act, they would bear the marks of the change that was certain to happen, but unpredictable in nature. It didn't stop them from the pursuit of the pleasure. The mystery would have to unfold.

The urgency of his ardor was evident as his breathing rate increased and he pushed inside her harder and with more conviction.

Nyota was not unfamiliar with her own sexual climaxes. But the clitoral spasms she had experienced in the past were nothing when compared to the bone jarring convulsions she felt as Spock brought her to this climax. Sliding her hands up through his hair and pulling him even closer, she put her mouth against his collarbone and moaned as she climaxed, her heart pounding against him.

Spock's climax began with a shudder he felt throughout his entire body. He wasn't prepared for the waves of pleasure that continued for several seconds as he ejaculated, a kind of euphoria filling his mind. The pulsing of his climax finally subsided and he rested his head against her shoulder as his breathing began to slow to normal.

Nyota's hands floated across his back, the sensation of her touch manifesting itself into ripples of pleasure in him. Something like a sigh escaped her lips as she contracted her cagle muscles, refusing to let him withdraw his penis from her. He moaned softly and pushed into her again.

They rested together like this, both of them making small noises of affection and satisfaction accompanied by languid kisses. Another half hour passed and Nyota looked at the chronos knowing she had to return to her quarters soon.

Spock had fallen to sleep beside her, his breathing slow and even. In the soft light of the room Nyota could just make out his features. In his repose his lineless face looked like a youth untouched by tragedy or loss. She slid her arm out from under him and slipped out of his bed.

As she stood, he awoke. He reached out for her and took her hand in his, gripping it tightly. She sat back down and leaned over him for a parting kiss. He put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her to him. He looked into her eyes, which even in the half light of his quarters he could see clearly, and considered his next words carefully. He had no idea if he was doing the right thing or not, but since there were no words in Vulcan for exactly what he intended to say to her he spoke in lingua franca.

"Nyota I love you." He kissed her again.

"Spock, I love you," she replied a little surprised at them both.

Though she hated to leave him now, they had agreed that each must wake in their own quarters for propriety's sake. She whispered, "I have to go." He nodded and touched her face with his hand releasing her from his grasp. She left his quarters and silently slipped out the door, leaving Spock alone to ponder what they had done.

In the morning Spock took his time dressing, stopping to read his electronic messages before eating the rest of the fresh fruit from the keeper. He was relaxed and though a trifle sore, felt robust and rested. Thoughts of Nyota floated across his mind intermingling with a day's worth of scheduling that flashed across the PADD.

He had no regret about their love making last night as he believed it was inevitable that they would consummate their relationship at some point.

He had known Nyota for many months from the academy and while they had enjoyed each other's company it had only been since the terrible day that Vulcan had imploded and his mother killed in the process, that she had come to him offering consolation and comfort where no one had done so before. In the ensuing months since, they had become closer causing him to wonder how their relationship would unfold.

He knew that morning that what he felt for Nyota wasn't just curiosity or fashion, but genuine feeling of the enduring kind. He didn't have better words to describe his understanding of _love_. Want and need cohabitated in this feeling of affection for her. Was that what he was supposed to feel? He did not know, because he could not know. He could only trust that he and Nyota were intelligent adults of good moral character, with great mutual appreciation. What more could he comprehend?

"_Kaiidth_," he thought, "_What is, is."_

In his VIP quarters Sarek breakfasted on what he considered pitiful Starfleet replicated food; tasteless bread and some kind of jam with the strong coffee he had learned to like. He supposed it was to be expected on a ship in the middle of space, but he would have liked something a bit tastier to break his fast.

His concern over the conversation he was about to have with Spock hung heavy on him. He had encouraged his son to live his own life, to make his own choices and now he was here to impose on Spock a duty he was not sure would be welcomed. And though Sarek alone might not have made such a demand, he was fulfilling his duty to T'Pau and the remaining Vulcan elders by being the messenger.

He looked up as the door chimed and Spock walked through the opening, a uniformed figure of competence with thoughtful look on his face.

As always, for a brief moment, Sarek saw only Amanda in the dark, round eyes of his son. They held the scope of her humanity in them despite years of rebuke by those around him on Vulcan.

He was proud of Spock in so many ways and truly grateful for his having saved what portion of Vulcan that remained. All that remained of Amanda was in his son.

He might not have understood emotionally what Spock went through in his struggle to find a place in the world, but recognized his son's achievements and the respect he was accorded by his shipmates. Times had been hard since the destruction of Vulcan, which everyone had expected. But Spock seemed to be more relaxed and content than Sarek had seen him in the previous months. All the more he dreaded the information he was about to convey to his only child.

"Good morning my father," Spock offered nodding in respect.

"Would you take refreshment Spock?" asked Sarek.

"No, but thank you." His father gestured for him to sit in the armchair across from his own. There was a pregnant silence for the briefest of seconds and then younger man spoke.

"You said you wished to speak to me. I am here." His father cleared his throat making Spock furrow his brow.

"My son, I need to speak with you about your…" he clearly was searching for a word, "your _female companion_. Lt. Uhura, I believe, is her name."

Spock felt his spine stiffen. He tolerated no chatter about his and Nyota's relationship among the crew and he had no intention of discussing it with Sarek, certainly not _this_ morning after the night he and Nyota had shared. He didn't respond but Sarek continued.

"Have you discussed with her your commitment to Vulcan?" Spock sat very still. He had wondered if it would come down to this. That this would be expected of him was predictable. He had known that ever since Vulcan had been destroyed. But it was not welcome. His father continued.

"You have an obligation to your race. You no longer have a bond mate and as you should know, all available breeding age Vulcans are necessary to rebuild our population."

His duty to contribute to his race was clearly a responsibility he was expected to accept, though till now his mixed race genetics had been the source of scorn on Vulcan.

"Sarek," he said, using his father's adult given name, putting them on more equal footing as men speaking to one another rather than as son to father. "As I am only half Vulcan, I would not expect my genetics to be of much use in repopulating Vulcan." If his father caught in his son's voice, the _slight_ so often used against Spock, he made no show of it in his expression.

"You know and understand the heritage of your Vulcan family. What your genetics mean to the race, your human blood not withstanding, is of great importance." The older man went on. "Our family was only one of few, and even fewer now, to have members seated in the high council for more than 2000 years. Our clan held ancestral lands on Vulcan dwarfed in size only to that of T'Pau's," he paused. "It's a great deal more than your genetics that Vulcan needs now."

"Since I know you do not mean to flatter me, I believe what you say is true. But I have chosen another path, one that prevents me from complying with this request," Spock offered respectfully but firmly. Sarek looked across the comfortable room and let his eyes rest on a painting of some unknown planetscape. _Ah, Spock was so much like his mother, _he thought.

"Spock, it is not a request," he watched for a change in the younger man's face but saw none so he continued, "It is a command from T'Pau that you resign your Starfleet commission and take up residence on Vulcan Minor. Your skills are needed at the Science Academy if we are to rebuild Vulcan on this new planet." He paused for a moment as if he was hesitant to continue. "Your genetic input is still being considered by the elders but it is likely they will rule in favor of accepting that as well. He stopped and then as an afterthought he added. "And we have determined a female suitable for bonding."

Spock never flinched or moved a muscle. Nothing gave away the rage he felt inside him at this absurd but logical claim on his life. He waited a moment and then stood up, snapping the front of his uniform top with both hands.

"My father," Spock began, reverting back to the more filial title, "I will consider what you have said. If you will excuse me…" He turned to leave but Sarek's voice, sounding somewhat frail, stopped him.

"Spock, do not allow your youthful lack of discipline to ruin your life or the life of this young woman. If things were different this might have been overlooked for a time…" his voice grew silent remembering the battles he fought to marry Spock's mother.

Spock knew without doubt that his face would betray his anger. Without turning around to face Sarek he spoke softly.

"Things now _are_ different." He strode to the door and pressed a button on the panel. The door hissed open. "I will contact you before you leave for Vulcan Minor." He walked through it as if nothing could penetrate his armor of cool logic. Sarek sat back in is chair, suddenly feeling very old. His mission completed, he knew he had stolen the easy contentment he had seen in his son and in its place he had brought darkness. He couldn't help a slight feeling of regret, however logical the demand.

Spock walked down the hallway in mental slow motion thinking how he would resolve this dilemma, his mind screaming for order. A command from T'Pau was no ordinary order.

His family and hers had been part of the population held in highest esteem on Vulcan in large part because of their devotion the teaching of Surak's philosophy of _Cthia, _commonly translated by humans as "logic," but more accurately meaning "reality truth."

The irony of his own situation was not lost on him. The reality was that he had an obligation to Vulcan, and the truth was that he was in love with Nyota Uhura.

Because of that obligation, he would be expected to comply with T'Pau's directive. To refuse to comply would risk his family name being cast into ruin, something his Vulcan conditioning and heritage could not, would not tolerate.

Yet, to comply with T'Pau's demand he would have to leave Nyota and the _Enterprise_. He would have to become someone he was not, someone he was not sure he wanted to be.

In his mind he constructed a rationale for leaving, tried it on like an overcoat to see if it fit. If he left the _Enterprise_, Nyota would be injured but would she recover wouldn't she?

Was it vanity to believe that she would not? He dashed the thought. She would recover eventually as would he. Wasn't adaptability one of the hallmarks of humanity? They were both very young. To say that they would both feel and think forever as they did right now was childish and egocentric. But was it true?

He stopped by one of the wide viewing portals as he walked back to the bridge. The _Enterprise_ was flying smoothly toward Starbase 4 where his father would switch to another spacecraft and continue his journey to Rigel, no doubt for similar conversations.

There were Vulcans in outlying posts, spared in the destruction of Vulcan, They too were now being called back to do their duty to their race. Could he do less?

He thought of the times he was ridiculed as a youth, called names for his half-breed status; thought of as _less than Vulcan _most of his life. Now it was not only his own future he had to consider, Nyota was a part of all this too.

**Within Reason**

Part 2

Aboard the _Enterprise_ as on other Starfleet ships scattered across the galaxy, couples serving together wasn't the norm but it did occur. With cross species intermingling, which was sure to happen, configurations of coupling were as varied as one's imagination. Today, two human crewmembers, Mel and Sondra were celebrating their one year anniversary with hors d'hourves and a cake in the open mess.

Nyota hurried through the last checklist of tasks and then spoke to Kirk.

"Captain, I'm finished and Betrra is here to relieve me. Permission to leave the bridge."

"Permission granted Lieutenant," he said casually. "Are you going to Mel and Sondra's party? I heard they were going to have real cake." He sounded like a kid, which she reflected, despite his command and commendations, he still was in many ways.

"I heard that too," she smiled as she got up from her station.

"Well if you heard it, it must be true," he said tapping his naked ear. "Mr. Sulu, you have the con, I'm going with the Lieutenant." Nyota removed the earpiece which she wore so often and for so long it had become an appendage of her own body.

Kirk stepped off the raised platform where the command chair stood in the center of the bridge. They entered the turbo lift and she pressed the button for the deck where the mess hall was located. No one ever rode in silence when Kirk was around. He just always had something to say.

"Lt. you smell ravishing today if I may say so," he offered, grinning, "Jasmine and… sandalwood?"

"Thank you Captain. Yes, I have some new soap," she countered.

"No sign of Cmdr. Spock this afternoon," he said with no emotion in his voice.

"No sir. I believe his schedule indicated he was going to be in engineering all afternoon with Mr. Scott," she replied in an even voice. She and Kirk had bantered this way since their first meeting in Iowa; a place and time that seemed so far away and so long ago now.

"And Spock…" he paused, "How is _he _today?"

He just couldn't help himself. Nyota Uhura was one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen, both inside and out and he counted her as one of his closest friends. So he showed his affection by "dipping her pigtail into the inkwell" as often as he could.

"I wouldn't know, Captain." Uhura replied indifferently. He was silent for a moment gathering his arsenal.

"So, you aren't still sleeping together?"

"Jim!" she whirled on him. How could he so cleverly choose words? He was relentless sometimes. If she said "no" then she was lying; if she said, "yes" he would berate her all day long and Spock too when he got the chance. She glared at him and remained silent. Kirk raised his hands in surrender.

"OK, OK, I was just trying to get a rise out of you." The turbo lift had arrived at its destination and the doors opened with a hiss. She walked past him through the open door giving him the _eye_ as she went. "But you two are cute together," he offered from behind her. She gave him no more notice as they exited into the festive atmosphere.

On one side of the smallish room stood a table laden with food; at one end a richly decorated spiral shaped confection. Uhura could _smell _the sugar. The happy couple were chatting and laughing with other crew members out in the center of the room and Uhura made a beeline for the crowd. Kirk followed. Someone had begun to play music over the comm. system. Uhura heard Jim over the din, "Sound's like a party to me!"

The crew couple received felicitations from everyone throughout the party and Uhura only saw a chance to speak with Sondra as the time grew closer for the event to end. She went up linking an arm through the other woman's and spoke to her ear.

"Sondra, I'm happy for you and Mel. I hope you two celebrate many more."

"I am so happy Nyota. For a while I wondered if either one of us could ever be happy again. But…" the small blonde woman gestured to the crowd of well wishers where Mel was receiving the congratulations of his colleagues.

Uhura had known Sondra in the academy and though she had been an upperclassman when Uhura was a freshman, the two had enjoyed each other's sense of humor and had become friends. Sondra and Mel had both lost family in the battle for Vulcan. So this occasion was all the more poignant to her, and important to mark.

Mel smiled radiantly across the room at Sondra. That he loved her was written all over his face. She was suddenly aware of her friend speaking to her.

"Nyota, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure you can," Nyota answered suspecting the topic.

"Is it true you and Commander Spock are… you know… a couple?" her friend queried.

Uhura's first reaction was to deny it. She didn't know why but she had a feeling that if she told anyone, if it became common knowledge it would jinx it or something. But truth be told, there were times she wished she had someone to talk to about it, especially since Gaila was gone.

"We have been seeing each other… some," she answered.

"You know he helped us out when Mel and I were about to be assigned to two different ships."

"No I didn't know that." It made her feel even more tenderly toward him to know little pieces of his life like this that he hadn't told her. It made him seem even more real to hear someone like Sondra praising him.

"Mel talked to him the day he got his assignment for the _Farragut_." They fell silent for a second as was the custom when the name of a downed vessel was mentioned in conversation. "I guess you could say Mr. Spock is a little bit responsible for us being here today." She looked around the room. "He's not here is he?"

Nyota looked around the room herself and didn't see him anywhere.

"No, but I'm sure he'd like to be. I think he's still down in engineering."

"That's a shame. We were hoping he'd come." She put her arm through Nyota's. "Would you tell him for us that he was missed?" Uhura nodded and sipped her drink, wondering why he had not made the time to attend the festivities. Even though he wasn't even a little bit of a party guy, it wasn't like him to disappoint anyone.

As far as Spock was concerned, the day had not improved after the talk with Sarek. He had spent the better part of the day in engineering with Mr. Scott where they had discovered that the schedule for reworking the phaser firing balance was all wrong. They had started from a Starfleet protocol which, when used for the first time was fine but now it needed "tweeking" as Mr. Scott had so scientifically put it. The whole schematic was off by just enough to require more assessment. He had planned that this entire bank of phasers would be operable by the time they reached Starbase 4 the following day. Now it looked like it would take at least one more day to calculate the variance.

Despite getting an adequate amount of sleep, the slow throb of a headache had been creeping in all day. He had also missed Mel and Sondra's anniversary gathering, something he had planned to attend. They were hard working, honest and loyal crewmates and he was flattered they'd invited him.

And then there was his conversation with his father. Little bits of it had niggled their way into his consciousness all day between specific tasks. He knew he needed to meditate to clear his mind and to determine if what he was considering was really _what he felt_ he ought to do or was it just logical?

He couldn't fathom having to say goodbye to Nyota. Even if it was for a limited period of time he didn't know how he would stand to be apart from her. Hadn't he as much right to live his own life as anyone on this ship? He shook his head, disgusted at his obsession with all of the emotion surrounding his life of late. He had put forth great effort to become the man he now was. He had to ask himself what could possibly be worth losing all for which he had worked?

Growing up he had endured the criticism and disrespect from people who considered him less Vulcan because of his human mother. And he had paid a price for just being who he was.

The taunting he had endured as a boy had grown into his being ostracized as a youth resulting in a deep loneliness as a young man.

It had only been since joining Starfleet that he'd felt he was living the right life for him; a life where he fit in as much as he would ever fit in anywhere. And in Nyota he had found not only friendship but solace and trust.

It was late, many hours after his shift was completed, his phaser research data entered and the Captain's routine debriefing completed, when he sat with the Doctor and Kirk in the Captain's ready room. His two human comrades sipped bourbon from a stash McCoy kept in his private locker…"for medicinal purposes" he called it, but like Uhura and nearly everyone else in Starfleet, anything pleasant from home was welcomed and treasured.

Spock sat across from Jim Kirk as he was retelling a story about the party for Mel and Sondra.

"Don't you think so Spock?" he asked, though Spock didn't reply immediately.

"Captain, I was thinking of something else, forgive me," he said casually.

"I was saying that I think Mel and Sondra make a great couple," offered Kirk cheerfully.

"I certainly agree Captain, they seem quite well suited," replied Spock flatly.

McCoy couldn't let Kirk get in the only jibes.

"How about you Spock? You feel well suited to Nyota these days?" said the Doctor pronouncing her name with a distinct southern drawl… "_Ni-ota" _brought on by the bourbon. Spock felt it coming but pushed back the growing anger that lurked behind his dark eyes.

"Doctor, my private life is of no concern to you," he said sternly, but knowing McCoy couldn't help himself really.

"Well _your _private life is not as private as it was Mister. I saw the look on Nyota's face when she was looking for you at the party."

"I do not know what you mean, and again, I must add that in any case it is none of your business if we are more than colleagues."

McCoy almost whooped he was so excited. He did turn in his chair and pointed his finger at Spock.

"See I told you Jim. He's got it bad." Spock knew if he didn't leave the room he was going to risk the temptation to pummel the doctor into the top of the Captain's desk. There were times when he wondered how this species of humanoid ever made it to outer space.

Kirk saw the small _tic _at the corner of Spock's eye and was ready to save McCoy should the need arise however, the movement passed as quickly as it had appeared. But Spock was not one to mince words when he wanted to be clear and McCoy wasn't out of the crosshairs yet.

"Doctor, while it is entirely clear that you have no respect for me personally, I had hoped that you held a higher regard for Lt. Uhura," Spock finished, standing up, his PADD behind his back clutched tightly in his fists. He looked at Kirk his eyes glazed over with control. "Permission to be dismissed Captain."

Kirk studied the Vulcan face that showed a mask of disinterest. Not the first time since they met, Jim wondered how his Vulcan first officer could hold together all these weeks without the help of someone he trusted.

"Dismissed Mr. Spock," then he added, getting up from his chair, "Wait, I'll walk out with you." The two men went through the ready room doors to the passageway, the doors closing behind them.

They walked down the corridor and Spock met Kirk's eyes briefly, but said nothing.

"Don't take McCoy seriously. He's been drinking and he doesn't mean half of what he says," shrugged Kirk.

"I hope he does not Captain," Spock said calmly.

"You know Spock, you are very difficult to be nice to sometimes." Spock stopped and faced Kirk.

"Jim, I apologize if I've offended your sense of manners." Kirk raised his hand.

"I only meant that friendship is a give and take thing." He studied the face of his first officer but got no more information than he already had. "Spock…" then as if he changed his mind about what he was going to say, "if you need a friend…"

"Thank you Jim," Spock said more kindly. "I will remember your offer."

Kirk walked back into his office and took his seat behind the desk.

"Bones, you son-of-a-bitch. Don't you think you went a little bit too far?" He picked up his glass and took a drink. "Spock is strung as tight as a bowstring."

"Jim that man is not human!" McCoy declared as if it was a surprise.

"Right. So what do we do to keep him from going atomic on us? Aren't you worried about him? _I'm_ worried about him," he declared.

"Worried? Not really. Nyota will set him to rights," said the Doctor chuckling. Kirk rolled his eyes at the inebriated doctor.

"You're serious. Well, I hope so. I really hope so." He gulped down the last of the liquid in his glass.

Spock headed down the walkway toward his quarters thinking of the predicament in which he found himself. He hadn't spoken to Nyota since early morning and was dreading having to face her. He knew she had become more adept at reading him and he feared the conversation with Sarek would show in his every move and word.

The decision he made about his future would affect not only the two of them, but others as well. The people with whom he served on the _Enterprise_ were in many ways more like family than his own had ever been.

He had only just begun to find a certain comfortable space between himself and Jim Kirk. He admired Kirk's headlong rush into life though at times his actions defied logic. But he felt a strong sense of loyalty to his Captain and hoped they would serve together for any years as his older self had predicted.

He had come to appreciate the Doctor's extensive medical knowledge, if not his brand of humor. He had also observed McCoy's compassion with anyone who was suffering or in pain. Spock knew that while he lacked that particular ability himself, it pleased him to know it was present in the Doctor.

He recalled the words his father had spoken to him after the death of his mother. Sarek had come to him saying that, in essence, he had a right to choose his life; a right to his emotions, the birthright and legacy of his human mother. His older self had said the same thing days later. Could he let T'Pau's command persuade him to deny both pieces of advice?

He entered his quarters and saw the light flashing on his personal com. He knew it was a message from Nyota before he looked at the monitor. He pressed the playback and heard her voice over the speaker.

"Hi!...missed you at the party. I finished my shift and grabbed something to eat. I'm in my quarters, give me a call." He touched the screen and a soft chime sounded. In a moment he heard Nyota speak. She sounded a little breathless.

"Hi, did you get my message?" she asked.

"Yes. I regret not being able to attend the party. I was detained in engineering."

That part was true of course, but he had not made any attempt to hurry along the work, which made him feel slightly guilty. His own difficult choice had loomed too large for him to face the gaiety of celebrating the union between two happy people in control of their own destinies.

"You sound winded. I trust you are well."

"Oh…" she offered a soft laugh, "I was in the shower when I heard the com. I wanted to try out my soap." The memories of the previous night's passion flooded back through his mind at her words. He had suppressed them all day and now he was keenly aware all over again. After a pause Nyota asked, "Why don't you come over? It isn't very late. I could make us some tea."

"Nyota…" He didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted only to fall into her arms and stay there forever.

The silence that hung in the air after he spoke worried Nyota. It was an all too classic response from a man who had made his conquest and was finished with the vanquished. But she quickly reminded herself that something like that wouldn't come from Spock.

"Are you OK?" she said with real concern in her voice. She remembered Sarek was aboard. "Is it your father?"

"I'll come to your quarters." The com link broke off abruptly. A look of concern wrinkled her brow. She went to the refresher and looked for something a little more modest than the towel she had wrapped around her. She chose a light shift wondering what could really be bothering Spock.

On the short walk to Nyota's quarters Spock considered briefly what he was going to say to her. He considered how she was going to deal with the information Sarek had told him. He wondered how much he should tell her about the specific content of that conversation.

He honestly didn't know what to expect from Nyota. She was the first human woman he had known besides his mother and he was fairly certain his data on intimate adult relationships was insufficient. But he did know the decision he would make in the next few minutes would either end what they had begun together or cement it.

He knew he wanted her to be a part of his life forever. Could he ask her to give up whatever "normal life" she might have with someone else in exchange for binding herself to him, alien in so many ways? Before he had resolved anything he was standing before her door. He pressed the chime on the console and heard her voice reply.

"Come in." The door hissed open and he stepped inside the small room fragrant with sandalwood and jasmine from his gift.

Before Spock's brisk com message Nyota had felt light hearted all day. She couldn't quantify everything she felt for Spock or how she'd felt the night before when they made love. It had been beyond her wildest expectations. Not just because he was a magnificent lover (indeed he had been for her), but because her feelings for Spock had been growing over the previous few months and last night had been a kind of culmination of those desires.

He wasn't an easy person to know nor was he an easy person with whom to be involved. But she had chosen the difficult path because in Spock she saw a quality of character that inspired her. It had inspired her all through the Academy and the respect she felt had turned into a deep affection the closer they had become.

She knew Spock was someone who could be trusted to do the right thing and his loyalty and commitment was legion. He was her bonafide hero.

But she also knew that the weight of all that had happened rested heavily on him much of the time. Their intimate interactions while satisfying, were often tempered with long periods of silence and almost an aloofness on his part that caused her a sense of worry. She hoped in time they would understand each other better.

At the moment she was happy to have him as her lover and her friend and she was more than willing to take her time to see where the relationship might take them.

Seeing him standing in her doorway she was immediately struck by his overall look of fatigue, unusual for him.

"Hey, come on in. You look tired," she said noticing the slight darkening of the skin under his eyes as he bent over to remove his boots and place them by the door.

"I have had a difficult day," he replied.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, not knowing really what to offer him.

"No," he replied. Then opening his arms to her he came a step closer and she responded by putting her arms around him, her face pressed against the fabric of his uniform.

"I was worried when I didn't see you all day," she said leaning against his chest. He raised one eyebrow.

"Worried? I could hardly have disappeared on a starship in space and if I had suffered some calamity I am certain you of all people would have been aware." She smiled and left his embrace, finding his logical observation slightly amusing in the moment.

"I wasn't worried _about_ you, I was worried…" her voice trailed, "I don't know… it's just good to see you."

She motioned for him to come into the tiny room where a couch, a chair and a small table separated the living room from the sleeping platform and the lavatory/shower. Though smaller than Spock's senior officer's quarters, hers were decidedly feminine and much softer in color and tone.

"Spock," she took his hand and led him toward the lavatory. "Why don't you take a hot shower? I'll hang your uniform in the refresher." She didn't wait for him to respond but instead started pushing his day uniform shirt up over his stomach intending to remove it.

He didn't feel like protesting. He pulled his shirt and undershirt off and handed them to her then walked past her and turned on the hot water. The room was still steamy from her earlier shower and smelled of her soap. He removed his uniform trousers and underwear and handed everything to Nyota who disappeared in the direction of the small refresher. The water shot out of the shower jets and bounced off the enclosure walls in several directions hitting his body from all angles as he stepped inside and closed the door.

He leaned his forearms against the shower wall and rested his head on his crossed arms letting the hot water course over his muscles hoping his mind would settle.

He didn't hear her step into the water with him, but he didn't flinch when she pressed herself against his back. Her touch was light and cool after the hot water but in seconds she was wet and warm and he could feel the outline of her breasts and her pubis pushing against him. She pushed herself away from him and he started to turn around but she stopped him, placing a hand on the back of his neck.

"Stay just there," she whispered.

He felt her hands pressing into his back, the slick layer of soap between them, not the jasmine he had bought for her, but another, simpler fragrance. She ran her hands up and down his back lathering the soap and kneading his muscles as she went along.

Adding more soap to her hands Nyota ran her fingers up the back side of his arms, to the hair that grew under them. An electric shock of desire went through him when she touched the fine hairs there and then let her hands travel forward to his chest. She passed her palms over his nipples letting them trace around the aureoles till both were hard. He heard her sigh behind him as he felt her hands move down his chest to his stomach and along the line of hair that ran down to his now very erect penis.

He was found it extremely difficult to continue to stand in his place in the shower, wanting instead to turn and crush her against him. He started to turn to her but she stopped him.

"This is just for you Spock, relax," she whispered. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding really, and then, whether of his own volition or not, gave in to her.

She kissed his back and ran her tongue over his skin in light gentle flicks, finding his responses to her kisses along the underside of his arms to be almost as thrilling to her as they obviously were to him. Her hands moved downward to encompass his erection then she continued to stroke him until he finally made a noise in his throat that told her he was ready to climax. She pressed herself against him and let the shuddering pulses of his climax insist themselves on him, feeling the power of it flood through his body.

Though she hadn't consciously tried to achieve her own, she realized fuzzily that she was ready too and allowed herself the same breathless pleasure as she pressed against his buttocks.

They stood together in this embrace for several minutes letting the hot water splash over them until Nyota broke the spell.

"Spock, let's dry off." He touched the shower controls and switched off the hot water then turned to Nyota who was holding out a large Turkish towel for him.

"I need to talk with you," he said plainly.

She saw the heavy weight of concern on his face as they dried off and emerged from the shower. Whatever was bothering him it was a burden she hoped he would share with her. She couldn't stand her friend to be so obviously unhappy.

Using the sheets from the bed as makeshift clothing they sat across from each other on the sleeping platform. For several minutes Spock looked down at his hands which he rubbed together, a sign of his anxiety.

"As you know, my father is on board _Enterprise_," he began. She nodded and he continued, "He asked me to return with him to Vulcan Minor to assist with the rebuilding process."

"What does he want you to do?" she asked, sounding calmer than she felt.

"There are many tasks ahead for which my education and skills would prove useful," Spock continued.

Nyota held herself still, unable to tell exactly what he was trying to say to her, yet knowing instinctively that he had not yet revealed all.

"It sounds like an exciting and important thing to your people," she ventured, "How do you feel about that?"

"My _feelings_ are of no apparent concern." Now, she could hear the anger in his voice. She reached for one of his hands and took it in hers.

"But you're here with me, and I care how you feel, so I'm asking." She started carefully, not wanting to raise his ire. He blinked and even in the half light of her quarters she could see his eyes narrow. He sat completely still looking intently into her eyes for several seconds, his face showing little.

For Spock it was a defining moment in his life. Her simple act of letting him know that she cared how he felt, made his decision clear as Nurolean crystal.

"I do not wish to leave _Enterprise_." Then with no hesitation he added, "Nyota, I do not wish to leave you."

A flood of relief rushed through her as her mind began to assimilate what he had said. Had he declared himself for her above his own family, his own people?

Spock stared at her face for what seemed like a long time before he spoke again.

"Though I'm not entirely familiar with human customs, I believe it appropriate that I should ask you to consider a more permanent arrangement of our status."

Her mind whirled through his words, as it would do when translating an obscure dialect. Involuntarily she snatched her hand from his.

"What are you saying Spock?" she asked, not sure she understood him. He took both her hands in his.

"Nyota I would be honored if you would…" he hesitated as if searching for the correct words, "become my wife."

A tremble that started somewhere in her stomach rose in her chest, and she began to shiver. He had asked her to marry him.

The seconds ticked away and she realized she had not said anything in response to his statement. Had she ever anticipated this moment? Of course in the most girlish way she had allowed the idea to meander through her day dreams. What would it be like to be his for all time? Could she be happy with someone so completely foreign even though he had always tried to accommodate her human feelings? A thousand questions raced through her brain as she tried to make the decision he was asking her to make.

The confusion in her mind rendered her temporarily mute. Spock did not move or speak but continued to stare into her eyes, searching for her reply.

"Have I said something wrong?" he asked, his eyes beginning to cloud with unease.

"Spock," she began, "I never thought…" her voice hesitant, "I wasn't prepared for…" Spock sat up a little straighter and she felt his hands loose their grip on hers ever so slightly.

Her mind reeled. What was she thinking? She loved him didn't she? Hadn't she told him she loved him? What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she answer?

He cleared his throat and broke the gaze he had trained on her face.

"Perhaps I have made an error," he said.

"No!" she cried, "I do love you Spock, I want to be with you." Her hands flew to his face cupping it between them. She looked into his eyes and thought she saw a fleeting look of pride or defiance, she wasn't sure.

"It is late and it has been a trying day to be sure," he shrugged slightly and looked back at her.

Nyota saw then he was embarrassed and trying to cover it.

"Spock, please… let me explain." She took a moment to rearrange the sheets, smoothing them around herself as she searched for the right words.

He didn't deserve to be hurt more after all he'd endured over the past months. But she knew she wasn't ready for this. She wasn't sure she wanted to marry anyone at this moment. But how could she add to his injury by refusing him?

The entire crew of the _Enterprise_ from the Captain on down had all experienced stress the likes of which most starship personnel never faced. Spock's loss was not solitary for nearly everyone had been close to or known someone killed in the destruction that the Narada and Nero had wrought. But his was perhaps the most complete.

For Nyota the chief misery was watching her dearest friend suffer his guilt and pain with no means to access the emotions much less process them. The pressure on Spock had been immense and because of his loyalty to his people the burden had not decreased but increased exponentially as the days went by.

In the end she counted on logic to save them.

"Spock… I love you. But I am young, as we both are… and marriage is a lifelong commitment, something I thought might happen later, not now. We've all been through so much over the past few months. I am concerned that we aren't really ready to make such a serious move." She spoke softly and remained calm. "Is it not logical that if we make decisions that will affect us all our lives, we should take our time and not be ruled completely by our emotions?"

"Your logic _is_ sound," he countered, but he looked away and back again with his eyes and wasn't sure he understood. He tried to appear distant, "I am grateful for your honesty."

"I'm sure of how I feel about you…" she could see that if she didn't choose the right words all would be lost between them, "but I don't want to make a decision this important in haste." He nodded and looked down at their hands resting in his lap. She stroked his hand with hers both of them feeling the snap of contact between them. "There is an old human custom, not unlike the betrothal on Vulcan…"

"You are speaking of engagement?" he looked up and she saw him relax a little.

"Yes, engagement. It's an arrangement where couples pledge themselves to one another and declare their intentions on a path to marriage," she finished a little breathless, waiting for him to respond. Before she could say more though he put his finger to her lips. She could see his brain working behind his eyes, processing the information she had offered.

"Kantu." ("I understand.") he said quietly in Vulcan. Several second passed before his expression changed. He seemed to be processing the data she had offered in some unusual way. Then in the most human expression Nyota had ever witnessed, Spock broke into a smile and then a laugh, his voice like musical notes floating in the air.

She felt her heart truly lighten for the first time in months. At once she realized that what they had been experiencing with one another was the making of a deeply felt, lifelong friendship that might or might not turn into a traditional union, but would be of their own making in their own time. She released her breath, tears of relief running down her face. For a few seconds the two sat like children recessed from the school of adulthood.

Spock recovered his composure quickly and save the brightness of his eyes one might not have known that he had indulged in that most human of responses. But Nyota saw that his eyes were no longer clouded over with doubt or worry.

He captured one of the tears on her cheek with his finger.

"Your father might not be very happy about this," she suggested.

"I believe that is a certainty," he replied, smelling the salty liquid before tasting it. He offered one of his quizzical looks for a second then stood up from the sleeping platform, letting the sheet fall away as he walked to the other side of the room where his clothing hung in the refresher.

"Where are you going?" asked Nyota somewhat stunned by his abrupt departure from the bed.

"I must talk to Sarek." He continued to dress and in a few minutes was ready to leave. Nyota wrapped the sheet around her and went to him.

"Spock, what are you going to say to him?"

"I will tell him the truth. That I am already committed to my life here. And that I intend to assist as I can with the efforts to rebuild Vulcan, but not at the expense of others to whom I am... bound." He offered her the small quirky smile that was more familiar to her than the wide grin he'd offered a moment ago.

"Are you sure?" she needed to know.

"I am resolute Nyota, perhaps more than I have ever been." He pulled her to him and kissed her strongly and deeply, breathing her into him and leaving her breathless. "I will be back shortly. Will you wait up for me?"

She stood looking up at him for a few seconds wondering how this man had come to be here with her and what they might share in the years to come.

"I will Spock." She placed her hand on his cheek. He took it and kissing her palm he pressed the control button beside the door panel.

"Thank you Nyota." The door hissed open and he left striding swiftly down the corridor.

Spock passed by the corridor to his quarters and continued on toward the turbo lift that would take him to the shuttle bays. If he hurried he could catch a shuttle to Starbase 4, talk to Sarek and hopefully get back to the _Enterprise_ before the night was over.

It was imperative that he talk to Sarek before he left Starbase 4. He asked himself if the confrontation between them earlier had impacted his decision to propose to Nyota. He knew that it had, but he felt no regret or remorse for that.

Sarek's demands had merely galvanized his resolve to make his own way in the world and his father and the Vulcan high council, or what was left of it, would have to do without _this_ Spock. He mused momentarily that they already had him albeit in an older version. Let _him_ help them rebuild. He had a life to build here with Nyota, Jim, Doctor McCoy and the rest of the _Enterprise_ crew.

He arrived at shuttle bay 6 in time to request permission to board. The pilot of the shuttle was a young woman Spock had known since the academy and he spoke to her as he boarded the craft.

"Lt. Cisneros, permission to come aboard?" She looked up in surprise.

"Commander Spock, permission granted."

"Thank you Lieutenant," he said as he took his seat behind her. "May I assist you?"

"Thank you Commander. I think I've got it," she said smiling. Though the Commander had been obviously strained ever since Vulcan had been destroyed, she saw in him this evening the "old" Spock, cool and in command of himself and his surroundings.

She knew him well enough from their academy days and it was good to see him return to his former self. She wondered if Nyota Uhura had anything to do with that and suspected that she did. Maria Cisneros had once upon a time set her own cap for him, but beyond a few friendly conversations it had gone nowhere. Yet he now had the appearance and countenance of a man in love and sure of himself. Rather than raising feeling of jealousy, she was happy for him. He had always seemed lonely and disconnected from the rest of the crowd.

The flight from the _Enterprise_ to the floating starbase was routine and Spock disembarked on the base in a scant 20 minutes.

"Commander will you need a return shuttle to the _Enterprise_?" she asked as Spock rose to exit the shuttle.

"I would appreciate it very much," he replied. "I will return here in half an hour."

"I'll be waiting sir," she said as he exited the shuttle.

Spock stopped at a panel just beyond the shuttle bay and pressed a key.

"Commander Spock of the _USS Enterprise_ here, please locate Ambassador Sarek," he spoke into the control panel.

"_Please enter command code for verification_," replied the computer. Spock spoke again into the control panel offering up his command code. In seconds he was routed through to Sarek's quarters. An unfamiliar voice answered.

"Ambassador Sarek's quarters," said a woman's voice he didn't recognize.

"This is Spock. I wish to speak to Sarek if he is available."

The Ambassador is resting at present," replied the woman. "I am Charlotte Pratt, the ambassador's assistant, may I help you?"

Spock had never heard his father speak of having an assistant but he reckoned that it was not an unusual development. His mother Amanda had often acted in this capacity and with her gone he supposed his father had hired someone to perform those duties.

"Unfortunately I have only a few minutes with which to speak to my father. Perhaps in this instance he would not mind being disturbed," he said, keeping his voice neutral.

"Oh, Commander Spock," she replied quickly, "I will ask him of course." Then as an afterthought she said, "You may come to his quarters on C deck, section 12, cabin 1207." Then the com went dead. Spock cocked one eyebrow and headed for the turbo lift that would take him to that section of the Starbase.

He pressed the button outside cabin 1207 and waited for someone to open the door. The door hissed open and he stepped inside the quarters which were luxurious by Starship standards.

An attractive woman with shoulder length gray hair and of average build, apparently Ms. Pratt, greeted him and ushered him into a large receiving room furnished with comfortable chairs and tables set around the room in small groupings suitable for private conversations. On one wall was a relief sculpture of some creature that looked to be part lizard and part lion. The soft light in the room was pleasant but not too bright. A door on his right hissed open and his father came into the room in a dressing gown, his face showing some surprise.

"Spock, I was not expecting you at this time. Nevertheless I am pleased to see you." He looked in the direction of the woman who was standing off to one side as if awaiting further instructions. "You have met my assistant, Ms. Pratt," Sarek said indicating the woman. Spock noticed then that she was a human, which came as a surprise. "Ms. Pratt, this is my son, Commander Spock."

"Yes, we just met," said Spock standing with his hands folded behind his back.

"I have only a few minutes before I get back to the _Enterprise_…" His father raised his eyebrows and his face showed clearly that this was not what he expected to hear from Spock. "I wish to speak to you… privately, please."

"Yes, of course. Ms. Pratt, if you will excuse us." The women nodded to both men slightly and left the room through one of the doors along the far wall. When the two were alone Sarek motioned for them to sit in two of the chairs nearby.

"I do not need to sit to say what I came to say father," Spock began. Sarek walked to a tray on which several glasses stood along with a pitcher of water. He poured himself a glass and offered one to Spock, a gesture familiar to any Vulcan.

"Will you take water?" Spock declined the offer. "Speak your mind Spock," his father said as he picked up his glass.

"I will not be going to Vulcan Minor with you," Spock began.

"No matter, you may come in a few days on another craft…" said Sarek, a bit of relief in his voice. Spock interrupted him.

"No Sarek, I will not be joining you on Vulcan Minor at all. I am staying on the _Enterprise_." His father paused, the glass in his hand stopped in motion toward his mouth.

"Spock I thought you understood that you are being commanded by T'Pau to return to your people."

"I do understand the command. I refuse to obey it." For a moment Spock thought Sarek might drop the glass of water. But he regained any composure he had been about to lose and set the glass down on the table instead.

"Spock this is not acceptable. Really, you must learn to do as you are told."

"Sarek, on the contrary, I am only here in person out of respect to tell you face to face of my decision. I would ask that you accept _that_." He placed a slight emphasis on the word.

Sarek looked into his son's face and saw there a determination that reminded him of the times in Spock's youth when his defiance of a specific rule was absolute even when it meant being punished for his refusal.

"If I may ask, what has prompted this collapse of your loyalty and duty to the Vulcan people, and to me?" Spock hoped that his father would not make this into a battle of wills, something he hoped to avoid.

"My father," he began a bit more gently, "I mean no disrespect to you or to anyone on Vulcan Minor." He took a breath and continued, "Once you told me that I was a child of two worlds, and that I alone must chose my path. I have made that choice. I intend to continue to serve in Starfleet and I hope to stay on the _Enterprise_."

"Is it the woman?" Sarek asked.

"Her name is Nyota Uhura," Spock replied, "And yes she is a part of my decision. I have proposed marriage to her." His father walked over to one of the chairs nearby and sat down heavily.

"I see. Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"No," Spock said simply. Sarek sat in silence for a moment and then rose, crossing the small space between the two men to face his son.

"Do you love her Spock?"

"I do father."

"Your mother would say that you are behaving quite like a human." Spock nodded but said nothing. "I am certain she'd be pleased to see that."

Sarek raised his hand and offered his son the traditional Vulcan farewell. Spock returned the gesture, noting a kind of sadness in his father's face.

"Live long and prosper Sarek."

"Live long and prosper my son," said Sarek.

Spock turned and exited the Ambassador's quarters without looking back grateful that his father had at least accepted his decision without an argument. He hurried down the corridor to the turbo lift and once inside requested to deck from which he had come. He looked at the chronos on the turbo lift wall and noted that he had 10 minutes to meet the shuttle craft for the short flight back to the _Enterprise_ and Nyota.

Lt. Cisneros was waiting for him and had the engines of the shuttle primed for take off when he sat down in the seat behind her.

"I hope I did not delay your departure Lieutenant," he said. She nodded that he had not and began the start sequence for take-off.

"How was your visit to Starbase 4 Commander?" she asked innocently.

"It was quite successful," he answered. The pilot noticed that he seemed more relaxed than on the trip over from _Enterprise_.

The shuttle quivered for a second before rising from the platform in the shuttle bay. Spock saw the doors of the bay open to reveal open space and the craft slipped out smoothly, banking slightly as it ascended toward the larger starship in orbit around the station.

Spock had always thought the _Enterprise_ a pleasing ship aesthetically. Her hull design and twin nacelles lent her a graceful look that hinted at her speed and prowess. As they flew toward the shuttle bay from which they had departed only a short time before, he watched the array of twinkling lights from her decks circling the saucer section. He squinted his eyes to get a closer look and found the small light shining from a particular window he recognized by location as Nyota's quarters. He settled back in the seat and kept his eyes on the light.

She was waiting for him. And he was coming back to her as promised. For the first time since the destruction of Vulcan and the death of his mother, Spock felt a sense of contentment and peace.

He walked through the corridors leading to Nyota's quarters wondering if she had indeed stayed up to wait for him. It was very late though he knew she was off shift for several more hours.

When he reached her door he almost decided to go on to his own quarters and let her get the rest she deserved and needed but his desire to see her overcame the logic behind that idea. He had always known the code for her door lock but had never used it. Now without hesitation he keyed it and walked through the door as it hissed open not waiting for her to answer in case she was sleeping.

The scent of her jasmine and sandalwood soap met his nostrils again as he entered the cabin which was nearly dark. Only the stars outside cast any light in the small main room. He stopped long enough to take off his boots at the door and then padded softly toward the bed where he made out her shape under the light cover. She did appear to be asleep.

The sight of her momentarily stopped him. She did indeed look young and in her repose, vulnerable. He thought back to their earlier conversation and acknowledged again her strength and her calm, logical response to his proposal.

He removed his clothing quietly and tried to slip into her bed without disturbing her sleep. She must have felt his weight on the bed for she stirred a little, making a small sound but not waking.

Resting his head on his hand he watched her, grateful for his own excellent night vision. In sleep her face was even more innocent and serene and he longed to touch her, but resisted the impulse.

Thoughts of the events of the past two days wound through his mind as he lay beside her. He had taken bold steps to make his life his own and the peace that had brought to him was precious for it was hard earned.

As Spock watched her he felt the sadness and longing in him fade, replaced by a sense of contentment. She stirred again and this time rolled over toward him. Without waking up she touched his chest and finding it close she nestled her head against him. She put her arm around his neck and pulled him down to her.

"Are you back?" she whispered sleepily without opening her eyes.

"Yes Nyota, I am back," he said softly.

"I'm so glad," she said coming more awake. She found his mouth with hers and kissed him.

Spock had never experienced the feeling that rose in him and couldn't have put a word to it if asked to define it, but he responded to it and to her by gently returning her kiss. She sighed and held him closer.

He raised her up a little and slipped his arm under her.

"Is everything OK? Are you OK?" she asked, opening her eyes to look into his.

"All is well," he replied. He hadn't expected her to awaken fully but she kissed him again and this time she pressed herself against him and pulled the sheet from in between them so that her skin touched his along the length of their bodies.

He felt the swell of desire begin to rise up in him and let his free hand slide down her shoulder till it rested in the small of her back where he massaged the skin at the base of her spine.

"Make love to me Spock," she whispered into his ear. "I want you."

He needed no further encouragement, dropping his head to kiss her neck and then her breast. His hand left her back and found her stomach sliding down between her legs where he felt the warmth of her body welcome him. He pressed his fingers to her genitals and she responded by opening her legs, putting one leg over his hip in invitation.

He marveled again at how easy it was to fall into the spell of her sexuality. Feeling no restraint now and with no regard for sleep, he pulled her to him and entered her, ready to be carried away by tide of their mutual desire.

Instead of the furtive passion they had discovered in their previous session of lovemaking, this act was more reverent and performed almost as if in slow motion. They didn't speak or cry out but found each other's rhythm and met the other's pace till they were both ready to climax. They came together in breathless pleasure that lasted far longer than either would have believed.

Afterward, still in each other's arms Nyota spoke, her face pressed against his chest.

"Spock, that was wonderful. Thank you." Truly shocked at her words he had no immediate response. He kissed her forehead and cheeks, noting that they were damp. With perspiration? No… tears.

"Nyota, what is wrong? Did I injure you in some way?" he asked his voice full of concern.

"I couldn't be better," she responded. "Sometimes humans cry because they are happy."

"Did this make you happy?" he asked quietly.

"Yes Spock," and then she asked, "Did it make you happy?"

He considered the contentment he was feeling was as close to _happy_ as he might ever feel.

"I am half human." He said it as if he was only realizing it for the first time.

"Yes, you are," Nyota began, "I believe this gives you the right to _feel happiness_, don't you?" Spock didn't reply, lost in thought for some minutes.

"I feel…" he paused, "wonderful."

They lay like that for a while until she had fallen back to sleep. He felt his own eyes grow heavy and finally gave in to sleep himself.

His last thought before slipping into the unconsciousness that comes with slumber was that he was right where he was supposed to be. He belonged here. It was another first for a man who had never felt he belonged anywhere.

"Morning" dawned according to the chronos on the side table of Nyota's quarters though on a starship in space there is no changing light outside to herald in a new day. Instead most of the crew had the light systems set in their own quarters to bring up the light in a false dawn simulating the experience of a sunrise or sunset. Nyota had her light system set in that fashion so that the light in her quarters became gradually brighter as the chronos clicked each passing minute of a new morning.

Her normal waking time was 0600, giving her time to shower, dress and eat before arriving for her shift on the bridge of the _Enterprise_.

Still half asleep she looked at the chronos date display and remembered that she was off duty for 24 hours. The temptation to roll over and go back to sleep was strong but her mind snapped awake when she felt Spock behind her.

She sighed and leaned back into his body which was stretched along hers under the light sheet. The hair on his chest tickled her back a little and brought her closer to being fully awake. She rolled over and faced him finding that his eyes were still closed and his breathing slow and even.

The minutes ticked away as she lay there looking at him. He was very handsome in a hard, chiseled sort of way. When awake the lines etched on his face gave him an appearance of being older than his 25 years. But with his head resting on the pillow, lost in peaceful sleep, he looked quite young. His hair was tousled, something she was certain no one on the _Enterprise_ had ever seen, and the unshaven beard stubble cast a dark shadow on the lower part of his face. She had never studied his face this closely before and noted that any woman, including herself, would be jealous of his dark, long eyelashes.

She looked closer at the shape of his lips, which had always turned her on, and noted the slight curve in the fullness of his bottom lip, which gave him a soft aspect.

She closed her eyes willing herself to remember him as he was this moment.

She knew the road ahead of them might be difficult. And though they might not always be as they were this morning, she never wanted to forget it.

She nearly jumped when he spoke, though he hadn't opened his eyes nor moved a muscle.

"Good morning," he said quietly. She touched his face and his eyes opened.

"You are so beautiful," she said in a hushed voice. He allowed a small upturning of his mouth convey the delight he felt.

"I am very certain that this is an example of beauty being in the eyes of the beholder." He ran his hand across the top of his head and down his face stopping to assess the hair growth around his chin.

Nyota found him irresistible and demonstrated this by kissing him. He responded with a lingering kiss that carried no urgency.

"I'm off shift for eighteen more hours," she said. "Are you hungry?"

Though Spock could normally go quite a long time before feeling hunger he recognized that he was indeed hungry having not eaten since he and Nyota had eaten a meal two days ago.

"I am very hungry," he said. "Would you like to go to the officer's mess hall together?"

"I need a shower first," she replied. "You could join me," she added smiling.

He remembered well the shower they had shared the evening before and fought down the urge to accept her invitation.

"I regret _I_ cannot be late for my duty shift, and if we begin another session of copulation that would logically be the result. But I will come by for you after I go to my quarters and we can go together if you like."

Nyota smiled. This was the Spock she knew well and loved so dearly; logical and dutiful.

"I would love to accompany you to the mess hall," she replied. Come back for me in half an hour?"

"Excellent," said Spock as he rose from the sleeping platform and for the second time in 24 hours, put on his uniform and boots in Nyota's quarters.

He offered her his raised hand in an abbreviated kind of Vulcan gesture and quickly left through the door.

Nyota went through the ritual of bathing, hair styling and face making she felt necessary for venturing out of her quarters even on an off shift. She did select from her clothing a dark blue pair of exercise pants and a T- shirt to match. She normally went to the _Enterprise's_ gymnasium to exercise on her off shifts and though she really felt like she'd had plenty of exercise in the past few hours she nevertheless made plans to stick to her routine.

She was just putting on her shoes when the door chime rang. It was Spock looking ready for duty in a fresh uniform, hair combed and smelling like fresh oats, the aroma of his bathing soap. His face was free of the beard growth once more and he looked as if everything was the same as it had been the day before yesterday. But of course it wasn't.

What had transpired between them and between Spock and his father would not be overlooked. They were different people now than they had been. She felt optimistic and smiled a greeting as he stood at the door waiting for her.

"I'm almost ready," she said slipping her foot into her remaining shoe.

"Nyota, may I ask you a question?" She nodded as she came over to him ready to leave. "How do engaged couples behave in public?" he asked, a look of complete innocence on his face. She took his arm and as they walked down the corridor toward the officer's mess hall she realized they were in for quite an adventure.

"Spock we can do whatever we like…" then remembering a line from a Shakespeare play called _Henry V_ she added, "_Great kings and princes do not cater to fashion…_" Spock raised one eyebrow quizzically and then squeezed her arm in his.

"_We are the makers of manners_," Spock finished the line for her.

"I didn't know you were familiar with ancient terran authors," she said somewhat amazed at the depth of his knowledge. He placed his hand over the one she had on his arm and patted it gently.

"Nyota there is much we have to discover about one another," he replied smiling down at her as they walked into the mess hall.

Conversation in the usually noisy mess hall stopped, the crew watching with some incredulity as the two walked across the room toward the table where Kirk and McCoy sat drinking their coffee.

The Captain and Doctor McCoy both stood as Nyota and Spock approached their table. Both looked a little shocked at seeing them together so openly and so…, _happy_. It was a far cry from the way Spock had looked the last time they had seen him.

Kirk, determined not to break whatever spell had fallen over his first officer, gestured to two empty seats.

"Spock, Uhura, good to see you. Will you join us?

"Thank you Captain," said Spock nodding to Kirk, then to Nyota he asked, "Is this acceptable?" to which she nodded affirmative. He pulled out a chair for Nyota and sat down beside her.

The sudden silence of the crew faded and gradually the din of conversation returned to the mess hall.

McCoy finally found his voice and said to the Captain,

"I told you Nyota would put him to rights." Jim smiled, but it was Spock who answered instead of the Captain.

"Doctor your observation is, for once, completely accurate." He touched Nyota's hand feeling again the electric-like current pass between them. "I am, as you say, _put to rights_," then he added, "I am right where I belong."

Everyone at the table knew how meaningful his statement was.

"Welcome back Mister Spock," offered Kirk.

"Thank you Captain, it is indeed good to be home."

**Within Reason**

Epilogue

Spock sat down beside McCoy and Kirk but didn't speak to either man. The large sanctuary was filled with people, some he recognized from Starfleet, some he assumed were personal friends of Nyota's during her lifetime.

A shroud decorated with symbols of her life, including a Starfleet insignia, a United States of Africa flag and some tribal symbols he had never seen before, was draped over her coffin which sat in the front of the church.

More people arrived and found seats in the pews that radiated outward from what appeared to be an alter flanked by a podium on a dais a little higher than the coffin.

Jim reached across McCoy and put his hand out to Spock, his face a mask of dignity that clearly showed his pain just beneath the surface. Spock looked at him, his eyes flashing a warning to his friend not to go further in an effort to comfort him.

Immediately he regretted that. It was true that while he, of the three men, was closest to Nyota Uhura, he was not the only one who would mourn her death. Both Kirk and the Doctor had loved her truly as a friend. They were grieving too.

Jim let it pass and went back to reading the handout they'd been given when they entered the church. After all their years together he knew that look all too well.

A man in a grey nondescript suit walked from a side door toward the dais where the lectern stood. He placed his hands on the sides of the wooden pulpit and faced the crowd of people. He leaned slightly toward the microphone attached to the stand.

"We have come together today to celebrate the life of Nyota Uhura, Mother, Wife, Sister, Daughter, Professor, Starfleet Officer, Friend.

Spock sat rock still and as the officiant went on with the descriptions of Nyota's life he allowed his own eulogy to form in his mind, remembering her as if they had seen one another yesterday.

He thought back to the time when their love for one another was fresh, new, titillating. Nyota was the first person he had ever kissed and the first woman to whom he had spoken the halted words of passion.

She was beautiful to the eye with a long neck and limbs which worked in perfect harmony to achieve a feline movement that was hypnotic. But of course she was so much more than her physical appearance. She had a capacity to comprehend him, to adjust to him, to accept him in ways that had been new to him when they met; and that he had found only in small doses since they parted.

It took a long time for him to truly grasp that she loved him for what he _was_, not for what she _hoped_ he would become. By that time it was too late… he lad lost her. And it was his fault.

The officiant was asking for individuals who might wish to come up to the podium and express their sentiments about Nyota. Jim rose from his seat and walked solemnly to the microphone.

He had aged a lot since Spock had last seen him. Their paths had crossed occasionally throughout their careers in Starfleet even after they both stopped serving on the _Enterprise_. But after Spock left Starfleet to accept a teaching position on Vulcan Minor, he and Jim lad lost contact except on rare occasions… like this one.

Kirk had stayed fit and even at 75 looked as if he could still take on perhaps a slow Ferengi, but his color was good and his breathing seemed to be fine, the asthma that had begun to plague him in his 50s not seeming to slow him down overmuch.

As Vulcans were a long lived race of creatures, Spock had begun to get used to losing the friends of his youth to old age and death. McCoy was a few years his senior and though he seemed spry, Spock suspected the ravages of time were working on him too.

For his own age of 78, he was approaching his middle years. He felt no different now than he had at 25 with perhaps the exception of having noticed a slight increase in his need for sleep. He had finally filled out to fit his long frame having lost the gangliness of his youth. But Nyota had always said he was too thin in those days.

He looked up at Jim and wondered what remembrances he would share with the crowd gathered.

"I had the privilege of serving with Nyota Uhura in Starfleet onboard the _Enterprise_. But we met before that in a bar in Iowa where she promptly put this farm boy in his place." A soft chuckle went through the church, many of the attendees having experienced that aspect of her themselves.

"I was impressed with her dignity and of course her beauty… well, we were all beautiful then," he said smiling. "But it was the person she was inside that made her who she was. She always called me to task when she thought it was warranted and she was never wrong. I loved her as my friend and colleague," he finished, a noticeable hitch in his voice. He stepped down from the podium, head down.

As he walked by the shrouded casket he stopped and placed a gentle hand on the cloth covering, his lips moving in some silent farewell.

McCoy was next to address the crowd. He took his spot at the podium and stood looking out at the diverse group before him. Then he looked down at Nyota's coffin staying silent for a moment.

"I was going to wax lyrical about Nyota's beauty, but you all already know that she was beautiful, inside and out. Then I thought I'd tell you about her ferocity when provoked, which was pretty often by James T. Kirk I might add. But I'm sure there are a few unlucky souls here who experienced that first hand too, so I won't tell you what you already know. What I will tell you is about something about Nyota Uhura that you might not know.

Her compassion reached interplanetary proportions during her lifetime and she leaves a legacy from endowments and schools to hospitals to soup kitchens across the galaxy. She cared for those of us who needed her most."

At McCoy's last words Spock felt a stab of pain in his chest that nearly took his breath away. _Those who needed her most._

When he was at his lowest ebb after Vulcan was destroyed, she was there to console and comfort him with her voice, her hands, her mind, and her body. With her whole heart she had loved him and that he had failed her, as he knew he had failed so many, was the source of the greatest sorrow and regret in his life.

He looked down at his hands and her image came to him the last time they had seen one another.

Her hair had grayed and was a shining crown of silver wound into a stylish mantle of braids that reminded him of a coronet. Her face had weathered but the crinkles at her eyes had only served to set off their amber warmth. Her smile was wide and almost beatific when she saw him across the room at the ceremony to christen the language institute in Nyrobi, aptly named, _The Enterprise Institute of Linguistics_.

He hadn't planned on attending the affair but after finishing some research work in Paris he could hardly think of an excuse not to take the shuttle to Nyrobi and accept the invitation she had sent to him. At the time he had wondered why he felt the need to see her, after so many years apart. But the tug of her request was stronger than his inhibitions so he had gone.

She had glided up to him, still regal and graceful, dressed in a soft gold gown that accentuated her skin and eyes perfectly. But it was her smile that beckoned him, welcoming and without slight.

"Spock, you came!" she said as she stood before him. "I'm so glad. It is truly wonderful to see you." She reached for his hand and he gave it to her only hesitating for a second before he offered it. The same electric sensation of desire and longing shot through him as it had the first time they had touched.

"I was honored you invited me," he replied. "You look well." She screwed up her face and whispered to him.

"I look pretty good for 65 don't you think?"

"Yes, indeed you do." He offered the small smile to her that was unaffected and genuine.

"Walk with me?" she asked taking his arm in hers. He nodded and they walked outside the French doors at the back of the room onto a beautiful portico. The night sky was full of stars and they stood looking at them together without speaking for a moment.

"Spock, are you well?" she asked not looking at him but still casting her eyes upward to the stars.

"I am well Nyota," he answered.

"I still love to hear you say my name," she said a little wistfully. He started to speak again but she placed her finger on his lips to silence him and shook her head.

"Don't say anything. I promised myself that I wouldn't speak of our past should we meet again. Sorry."

He took her hand and holding it, kissed the finger she had on his lips. For that moment they were once again young and in love. The link between their minds was instantly renewed and each saw all they had shared.

"I never meant to hurt you, can you forgive me?" he said. She pulled her hand back and looked at him her eyes narrowing.

"_You_ didn't hurt _me_ Spock. If an apology is in order it's mine to you." She took a step away from him and turned her back to him. "I didn't know how much I was going to change." He walked around to face her.

"Did you think that you were the one who failed us?

"No but I failed you, Spock. I promised something I later couldn't give."

"That was not your fault Nyota." She spread her hands out and looked down at them.

"We did have a difficult time…" she said quietly.

"Yes. But I was the one who wouldn't bend, wouldn't embrace a life that you wanted and needed."

"And it was I who left you," she said her eyes brimming with the brightness of tears. He looked down at the ground unable to face her eyes.

"It has been a long time," he said finally. "And I truly hope you have been happy."

"I have been. My daughters and grand children have given me a rich life." She did not mention the man she had married. It was of no consequence to Spock.

After they had become engaged they had continued their assignment on the _Enterprise_. For nearly a year it had seemed that they were compatible and happy together. Then when she had become pregnant and miscarried the child, things between them had changed. She was terribly hurt by the loss and he knew no way to console her.

Instead, to cover his own pain, he had become distant and aloof. With each successive miscarriage they had grown farther apart. Her disappointment in her inability to carry his child had distanced her from him. She bore the pain of it all alone.

His own reaction to the miscarriages had been to go on more assignments for Starfleet, to be absent from her more and for longer periods of time. Their relationship began to be defined by absence and loss not joy.

The engagement they had so happily entered had strung out for four years until finally she had given in to the truth that he was never going to emotionally come back and share his life with her. Too much pain had passed between them. At long last she had understood that he had offered his chief loyalty to Starfleet and to Jim Kirk and to the _Enterprise_.

About six months after her last miscarriage she had taken a leave of absence while Spock accepted an extended research project on Orion. She returned to Earth and spent time with her family for the first time since entering Starfleet Academy. A few weeks away from the _Enterprise_ she began to remember what it was like to laugh and enjoy daily life without the strain of wishing for something that didn't seem to be possible.

It was on a trip to London with her sister that she had met Paul McCutcheon, an Oxford linguist who made her laugh and with whom she felt comfortable. Their goals and personalities had been similar and an easy romance had blossomed. A daughter had been born shortly after they married. They had three more daughters over the years and had shared the pleasure of grandchildren before his death.

She had returned to the _Enterprise _after her leave of absence, to tell Spock that she was leaving Starfleet and _Enterprise_ and him. Part of her had feared he would not accept her decision and beg her to stay. She had prepared herself with rationale and a logical argument why it was best for them both, but she needn't have bothered.

When she told him she was leaving him, he had said nothing and let her go.

Now so many years later he was here to pay his respects and to finally say the goodbye he wasn't able to face then.

McCoy had returned to his seat and was looking expectantly at Spock.

"You're going to say _something_ aren't you?" McCoy whispered to him. Spock looked at his friend with the same blank look McCoy had seen so many times before. "Damnit Spock, you owe her that."

Spock stood up, and walked to the podium briskly, his heart pounding in his chest. He had no idea what he would say once he had the floor. The people gathered for the ceremony watched him ascend the steps to the dais, a course of whispered comments running through them. He faced the crowd and tried to organize his thoughts.

He tried to speak but no words would come out of his mouth. His mind raced with the images, the smells and the sounds of her, in his arms, her head on his shoulder, her face smiling up at him after they had made love, her laughing at some idiotic attempt at humor on his part, her lips parting to receive his kiss, her tears streaming down her face when she knew they couldn't make it work. He cleared his throat and spoke what he had never said aloud to anyone save Nyota alone.

"I loved her… I loved her."

Cave Canis

© 2009


End file.
